


It Was Always You

by BleedingInk



Series: You're The One That I Want [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood Kink, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Frottage, Jealousy, Knifeplay, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-12
Updated: 2018-10-12
Packaged: 2019-07-29 03:01:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16255328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BleedingInk/pseuds/BleedingInk
Summary: Benny understands that a hunter with a vampire boyfriend isn't a good look. He also understand that what Dean and Castiel have is... different. Most days he's fine with that.And then there are days when he's left waiting alone in a bar's table.





	It Was Always You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Schmidt1012](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schmidt1012/gifts).



> Happy birthday, friend! I hope you enjoy it!

Benny taps his fingers against the beer he has been nursing for an hour now. He could drink it, but he isn’t going to get drunk from it, so what would be the point anyway? He just ordered it because it would be weird to be sitting at a bar with nothing in his hand and to be honest, this is going taking longer than he anticipated.

“It’ll just be a second, okay, babe?” Dean said. “Cas is just going to drop by and give us some intel on Michael real quick. Then we can go.”

Benny understands. This is Dean’s job, after all, his God given mission and whatnot. Benny knew that when he clawed his way out of Purgatory, when he went to find him one more time. He knows a hunter with a vampire boyfriend isn’t a good look, he knows many, many things have changed while he was dead and that it wasn’t always a walk in the park.

He also knows Dean and Castiel have something… different. He knew it the first time around, when Dean dragged both their asses through half of Purgatory looking for the angel. At first it wasn’t clear to Benny why Dean kept accepting his company when he was obviously so desperate to find Castiel, but as soon as they got to Earth and the angel rendezvoused with his demon girlfriend, well… it explained a lot.

Still, Benny would have died for Dean. Had, in fact, died for him once, to help rescue Sam. That is something he needs to live with, that in Dean’s order of priorities, he ranks third _at most_. Most days, he is fine with that.

And then there are days when he’s left waiting in a bar’s table, the smell of intoxicated humans and less than perfectly clean bathrooms assaulting his senses, watching from a distance while Dean and Castiel discuss something right outside the bar’s windows. If he closes his eyes and focuses, if he moves closer to the door, he could listen in to their words, but that would imply combing through all the noise from the tables around him. So he continues fidgeting with his intact beer, watching intently until Dean gives Castiel a quick hug. The angel, no longer able to disappear in the blink of an eye, gets into his car and drives away while Dean makes his way back inside.

“Right then,” he says, taking his seat back and flashing Benny his million dollar smile, the one that had made every girl and guy in miles around swoon at him. Benny isn’t immune to it, so even through his irritation, he finds himself smiling back as Dean searches through his wallet and throws some bills on the table to pay for their beers.

“Good intel?” Benny asks.

“I’ll call Sammy while we’re on the car and tell him to check it out,” Dean says. “So… you and I should be free for the night.”

Benny thinks that’s the best news he’s heard in centuries.

As promise, Dean spends the ride to the hotel talking on the phone with Sam. Benny doesn’t mean to overhear, but now that he doesn’t have the excuse of the bar noises to drown it, he finds himself listening to every word of the brothers’ conversation.

“So I sent him your way. Both of you can cover more ground and see if you can find this Celestial Grail or whatever.”

“Really? We’re looking for the Holy Grail now? The literal Holy Grail?” Sam sounds half-surprised, half-annoyed.

“I don’t know what to tell you, man. We’ve done weirder things.”

Sam agrees to that with a sigh.

“Did he tell you where Meg took Jack?”

Benny watches the way Dean’s face twists up at the mention of Meg. She’s a demon and despite having proven she’s loyal to them (well, to Castiel, in any case), Dean still only trusts her as far as he can throw her. Benny has his own ideas about why that is, but he never brings it up.

“No, he didn’t mention them,” Dean says. “Kid’s under demon witness protection program. At least until he learns how to throw a punch. But, uh… it worries me.”

“Meg wouldn’t hurt him.”

“Probably not, but her sense of right and wrong is all messed up,” Dean complains. “Who knows what kind of ideas she’s going to put in his head?”

“What’s she gonna do, convince him that Star Wars is better than Star Trek?” Benny jokes.

Dean glares at him, but apparently Sam hears him, because he chuckles.

“Hi, Benny. Could tell my brother to chill, please?”

“I tell him every day. Doesn’t seem to get through to him.”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Dean cuts them off. “Cas will be there in the morning, so get some rest. And call me when you get on your way.”

“Yeah. Try to get some rest too.”

Dean looks at Benny with a half-smile and a raised eyebrow.

“I mean… if the mean, burly vampire lets me…”

“Okay. I’m hanging up now.”

“What do you have against love, Sam?” Dean jokes, but his brother has already ended the call. “Coward.”

“I think you do give out a little too much information about what you and I do, chéri,” Benny points out.

“Nah.” Dean stretches his hand and gently squeeze Benny’s knee. “There are some things that are just for you and me to know.”

They definitely can’t get to the motel fast enough.

Benny prefers it this way, when he and Dean were out on the road on their own. Having to make accommodations for Sam or Mary or whoever it is that had come along was a hassle, but it’s inevitable now and then. And Benny notices how Dean’s attitude changed when Castiel is around. It isn’t as if he is ashamed of their relationship; they are well past that, and since Castiel is more or less… dating? Married? No one is quite sure… with a demon, he doesn’t exactly have room to judge them. But Benny notices Dean becomes a little quieter, a little less handsy with him when the angel is around.

That’s why Benny likes it better when they’re all alone, when there’s no one there to interrupt them or ask something from them. When they can close the door and leave the world behind them. Benny likes to have Dean’s undivided attention, his hands roaming through his body, his green eyes almost entirely black from the lust. In those moment, Dean is completely his and he doesn’t have to share him with the world, or with his family, and least of all with Castiel.

He leaves a trail of kisses over Dean’s chest. His lips lingered just a moment over his throat, over his artery, sensing Dean’s accelerated pulse right underneath his skin, his blood that tastes so sweet…

He hesitates just a moment before moving on to try to do something else, but it’s enough for Dean to notice it. He knows Benny all too well.

“Hey, babe? Babe, wait,” he says, putting his hands on Benny’s shoulders and pushing him up again. “Are you okay?”

“I’m gonna be better than okay in just a moment,” Benny mutters and tries to go back to what he was doing, but Dean isn’t so easily distracted.

“That’s not what I meant,” he says, as if Benny needs him to tell him that. “Are you thirsty?”

“Is it really fair to ask me that question when I’m on top of you?”

“I appreciate that, but you know what I mean.”

Benny sighs deeply. Dean’s like a dog with a bone sometimes, he swears.

“I’m fine,” he promises.

“Really? Because I know for a fact that we ran out of blood bags yesterday and we’ve been in the car for hours today to meet up with Cas. So, you haven’t eaten all day.”

Benny’s mood sours a little. Not just because Dean is right, but because he doesn’t like to be reminded of the angel’s existence and the fact that Dean would drive through half a state to meet him for less than ten minutes.

“I’m fine,” he repeats, but Dean isn’t buying it.

“No, see? You’re cranky. You get cranky when you’re thirsty.”

Benny sighs and rolls over to get away from Dean. He’s just not going to drop the issue, is he?

“Well, what’d you want us to do? Go ransack the nearest hospital?”

Dean stands up from the bed and for a second, Benny is afraid that yes, that is exactly what Dean intends them to do. But instead, Dean unzips his jeans and drops them on the floor along with his boxers. Benny forgets for a second that he’s supposed to be irritated, especially when Dean climbs on his lap, semi-hard and wearing only the amulet around his neck. Benny sits up to wrap his arms around Dean and kisses him deeply, their tongues tasting each other as Dean frees Benny’s erection with expert fingers and rubs it gently.

He’s so distracted by all the sensations, by how warm Dean’s skin feels against his, always so cold, that he doesn’t realize it when Dean stretches his hand and grabs something from the night table until he has it in his hand.

It’s a routine he’s seen so many times that by now Benny doesn’t even pay attention to it. They get into the motel room and Dean settles a series of things on the night table: his phone, the motel’s card, and finally, the knife. It’s a small blade carved with magical runes and a wooden handle and Benny knows it’s meant to kill demons, but he’s seen Dean wield it against all sorts of other creatures.

It glimmers dangerously on Dean’s hand in that moment. Benny looks up at him, confused.

“Chéri?”

Dean sets the blade against his left pectoral, and slowly, deliberately, draws a long cut against his skin. Just deep enough for a trickle of blood to bloom there.

Benny gasps. The smell is sweet and enticing, and he doesn’t think his mouth had ever felt this dry. He has to fight with every inch of his will to prevent his fangs from coming out.

“We shouldn’t…” he mutters.

“Come on, it’s nothing we haven’t done before,” Dean says. He cups Benny’s cheek with one hand and tries bringing him closer. “It’s okay. I trust you.”

And that makes it all the more difficult. Dean always trusts him, blindly, recklessly. This isn’t something they do often, because the first time it had been a disastrous accident. They had been making love, just like this, and Benny had been so overwhelmed by the scent of Dean’s sweat, by the sound of his moaning echoing in his ears and suddenly he wanted him, he wanted him like nothing he’d ever wanted before…

Benny only stopped when Dean’s moans of pleasure became whimpers of pain. Later, Dean told Sam and Castiel that he’d got hurt in a bar brawl when they saw the bandage in his neck. Benny is certain that neither of them believed him.

But ever since then, when they are out of blood bags, Dean always offers to let Benny drink from him. And Benny knows he shouldn’t. It’s dangerous. He could lose control and really hurt Dean and he’d never forgive himself if that were to happen.

But he’s so thirsty and Dean just smells so good…

“Benny.” His name on Dean’s lips sounds almost like a filthy prayer. “It’s okay.”

He punctuates his insistence by drawing the knife over his skin again, the trickle becoming a thin red stream now, and Benny can’t take it anymore.

He still tries to go slow when he places his tongue against Dean’s feverishly hot skin and licks up, savoring the soft, velvety taste of warm blood that the blood from the bags can never quite match. But it’s so intoxicating that his fangs are out before he can stop them. The knife clatters on the floor when Dean drops it. They’re locked in a tight embrace and Benny is lost, licking and lapping at his skin that he barely realizes it when Dean starts grinding against him, trying to get some much needed friction.

Benny groans softly and turns him over so he’s lying on his back again. Gently, he parts Dean’s legs and settles between them. His fangs pierced through soft skin and Dean cries out, a mixture of pain and pleasure. Benny grinds against him hard, his hand holding their cocks together to get them some much needed friction. They have no more lube than their one sweat and the pre-cum leaking, but he tries to make it as pleasurable to him to distract Dean from what’s happening. At least while he still has some control of himself, because the more Benny gets lost in his taste, the less he’s capable of controlling himself. The man in his arms is so warm and hard and _his, his, his_ …

Dean comes first, his body stifling and his mouth gasping soundlessly for air. The slickness between their legs and Dean’s hands on his hair push Benny over the edge as well. The force of his orgasm is enough to erase the thirst and though a primitive part of his brain wants to keep biting, wants to keep drinking until there’s not a drop left, he manages to push himself up and away from Dean.

He licks his lips and closes his eyes, trying to catch his breath. He’s not well-fed, not by a long shot, but enough to keep him satiated until they can get their hands on more blood bags. Slowly, he manages to calm himself enough so his fangs would retract back and he can finally speak normally.

“Dean?” he calls softly. “Chéri?”

Dean is breathing hard, with his throat exposed. Benny chases those thoughts away as he puts a hand on Dean’s cheek gently. He’s a mess covered in blood, cum and sweat and despite the heat, he looks a little pale. When he speaks, his voice comes as an incoherent whisper:

“I, uh… sorry, I’m a little… I’m… lightheaded…”

Benny kicks himself mentally. Did he took too much blood from him? He had been so lost in the amazing sensation that he hadn’t been paying attention. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“Hang on.” Benny kisses him in the temple and stands up. “I’ll bring you some water.”

He looks at himself in the bathroom’s mirror and cringes. His bear and chin are covered in blood, Dean’s blood, and though he wants to clean it up and lick it clean from his fingers, savor the last drop of it, he can’t bring himself to. He cleans himself a little and returns to the room with a glass filled to the brim and a wet cloth.

Dean has managed to sit down and down he’s still looking down and groaning softly, it’s a good sign that he’s moving. He grabs the glass from Benny’s hand and downs half of the water in one long gulp. Then he does something really strange: he chuckles.

“Well, that was…”

“Don’t talk,” Benny begs.

He doesn’t think he can handle whatever he’s about to say, especially not with the guilt and shame that are washing over him. Something of what he’s thinking must show up on his face, because Dean frowns and leans towards him.

“Hey…”

“We have to fix that,” Benny decides, standing up.

He returns with the first aid kit they keep in Dean’s bag and proceeds to clean and cover the wound Dean inflicted upon himself. Dean watches him in silence, his expression unreadable. He catches one of Benny’s hands and places his lips against its knuckles.

“You’re warm,” he comments, almost surprised.

“I took too much from you,” Benny says, lowering his eyes. “I’m sorry. I… should have been more careful.”

He stands up and starts picking up the clothes that are spread through the floor.

“Benny?” Dean calls, confused. “What are you doing?”

“I need some air,” Benny replies, pulling up his pants. “I’m sorry, I just need to…”

“Benny!”

Dean manages to put on his jeans and stumble to the door. Benny stops to catch him before he falls on his face. Dean doesn’t seem deter by the fact he’d just lost a lot of blood and his body isn’t working correctly. He holds on to Benny tight, as if he isn’t planning on letting him go.

“Talk to me,” he demands. “What’s wrong? Is it the blood? Can you still smell it?”

He does, though it’s only a faint scent at that point. What Benny can’t understand is why Dean would run the risk of throwing himself in Benny’s arms if he thinks that’s what the problem is.

“Dean…” Benny starts and he can’t stand it. He can’t stand the way Dean’s eyes stare at him, the way his hands are placed so softly in his body. Like he’s worth it. Like he’s really the one Dean wants. He just breaks. He hides his face on Dean’s shoulder and lets all the emotions flow through him. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…”

“Why are you apologizing for? Babe.” Dean pats his hair, trying to console him. “I told you, it’s okay. I wanted you to…”

“No.” Benny shakes his head. He’s sorry for that too, but for a different reason that Dean might think. “I’m sorry that you had to do that at all. I’m sorry I’m not _him_.”

“What the…?” Dean steps back and grabs Benny’s chin, forcing him to look up at him. “What the hell are you even talking about right now?”

“Castiel,” Benny explains, because there’s no point in pretending that they don’t both know exactly what’s wrong. “I’m sorry I’m not the angel, Dean. I’m sorry I’m just… this.”

Dean opens his mouth and then closes it again. He steps away, looks around as if he’s expecting someone to pop up and explain it to him, and then looks back at Benny.

“What?” he asks in the end.

“You don’t have to lie to me,” Benny says. “I know you love him. I don’t care, but… I’m sorry you had to settle for me.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Dean shakes his head. “You think I’m in love with… _Cas_?”

He chuckles, but something in Benny’s face makes him realize this isn’t a joke.

“No!” Dean exclaims. “You really…? Benny, no. Of course not. Hell, no. Why did you even think that?”

It’s really hard to tell if he’s being honest right now or not. Benny would like to believe that he is, because this reassurance is exactly what he wants to hear. But he still can’t bring himself to believe it.

“You’re always going to him when he calls,” Benny points out. “You’re jealous of Meg…”

“I’m not _jealous_ of Meg. I’m wary of her ‘cause she’s an evil bitch,” Dean corrects him. “She used to be our enemy and she put us through the ringer in ways you can’t imagine. I’m never going to be friends with her, no matter how long she keeps this reformed demon act she’s got going.” He stops and rubs his face. “It’s the same deal with Cas. We’ve been through so much crap together… Benny, he is my best friend. Along with Sam, he is one of the few people in this shitty world that I fully trust. So yeah, if he calls, I’m gonna go to see what he has to say.” He steps closer to Benny and puts a hand on his neck. “I do love him. But not like this. Not like I how love you. It’s never been like that.”

“But you… you act so different around me when he’s there,” Benny protests. He wants to believe it so badly, he knows Dean would never lie to him like this, but the doubts he’s been holding on to for so long are just hard to dispel…

“Yeah. ‘Cause you don’t like each other.” Dean chuckles again, as if this all was a funny misunderstanding. “Like… out of consideration to me, he’s not going to be making out with Meg all the time where I can see him, right?”

“Wait… Castiel doesn’t like me?” Benny asks. He suspected as much, but he never actually considered Castiel would bring it up to Dean. Mostly because he thought that would mean Dean would drop him so fast Benny could die from the whiplash, so he took the fact that it hadn’t happened yet as an indication that Castiel was tolerating their relationship for reasons beyond Benny’s understanding.

Dean scoffs and rolls his eyes.

“No,” he confesses. “He doesn’t like it that I let you drink from me. He thinks it’s dangerous.”

“He knows about that?”

“He’s not an idiot, Benny.” Dean looks exasperated, as if just remembering that conversation is enough to put him in a foul mood. “Sam knows, too, but he says that I’m smart enough to make my own choices.”

He wraps an arm around Benny’s waist and pulls him closer. The smile at the edge of his lips is almost mischievous.

“And that’s just the thing, isn’t it? I didn’t settle for you. I _chose_ you.”

Benny feels his knees give out. It’s so easy. He’s like an anchor or a magnet, something he can hold on to when his thoughts are raging and his thirst is overwhelming and he thinks he’s about to lose his mind. And knowing that Dean loves him, that he’s there for him…

Dean kisses him and Benny’s raging thoughts all go quiet at the same time. His impossibly green eyes are shining when they break. He takes Benny by the hand and gently guides him back to the bed with him.

It’s hours before he speaks again. Benny is counting the freckles on Dean’s back and suddenly another thought occur to him.

“Dean?”

Dean mumbles incoherently and turns around to look at him. There’s a droopy smile on his face, but his eyes settle on Benny with ease.

“Yeah, babe?”

“About the blood drinking… maybe we shouldn’t… do it a lot. Maybe Castiel is right,” he says and he’s pretty sure that him agreeing with the angel on something must be a sign. If not of the end of the world, a sign of _something_ , for sure.

“Fuck that,” Dean replies. “I trust you.”

“Yeah, but…”

Dean moves closer to him and snuggles his neck. That is always a good way to get Benny to shut up.

“You wanna know something?” Dean mutters. “I kinda like it.”

Now it’s Benny’s turn to be completely disconcerted.

“What?”

“Yeah. It’s a little bit kinky. I like it.” He kisses Benny’s cheek. “I know we can’t do it every time, but every once in a while… that’s a treat for me as much as it is for you. ‘Cause I taste good, don’t I?”

Benny stares at him for a moment. If he needs another proof that Dean really did choose him, he thinks that’s it. Dean knew what he was before they started doing this together. And not only does he know it, he _enjoys_ it.

“Chéri?”

“Yes?”

“You’re a pervert.”

Dean laughs out loud and inches closer to Benny.

“Yeah. But you love me.”

There’s no denying that.

**Author's Note:**

> If you'd like to request a birthday present, you can do so at [my Tumblr!](http://inkbleeder.tumblr.com/post/178377106826/spn-birthday-prompts)


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